


You trusted him, why?

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Acidental drug use, Angst, Confession, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Meeting, Gen, Greg looks after Mycroft, Greg to the rescue, M/M, Mycroft Feels, Mycroft is a Bit Not Good, Post Sherrinford, Worried Sherlock, discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: Greg first met Mycroft in a park while he was under the infulance of a hallucinogenic drug.  He took him home and looked after him during the time.Years later they met again. They kept meeting and slowly Mycroft lowered his walls around him.After Sherrinfor Greg was the one Mycroft trusted enough to go and ask for help. Of course Greg was there to look after him this time too.





	You trusted him, why?

Mycroft was sitting on a bench, knees pulled up, arms covering his head. He did his best to try and hide from the world.  
"Sir are you all right?" someone stopped next to him.  
"Yes, thank you." he managed to say.  
"Are you drunk?"  
"Not really."  
"Do you need help?"  
"I need to be left alone; thank you." Mycroft said harshly.  
"I can't do that. I would like to ask you to look up now."  
"No can do."  
"Sir, I'm a police officer I'd like to ask you again to look up." he said firmly. Mycroft raised his head, but kept his eyes closed. "Could you open your eyes?" Mycroft reluctantly did it, trying not to look at him. "Hello!" the officer greeted him.  
"Hi." Mycroft quickly hid his face again.  
"What happened?"  
"I was drugged in a party...I just have to wait for it to wear off."  
"What was it?"  
"Some hallucinogenic stuff; it's just getting started. Thank you for your concern."  
"I call an ambulance for you."  
"No...no need, please. I just need to sit it out."  
"Or a taxi?"  
"No, please."  
"I can't leave you here. I can take you back to the station."  
"I'm fine here!"  
"Come with me then. I live close by, it'll be better there than out here in the park."  
"Are you really a police officer?"  
"I am; you could see it when you looked up. I'm still in my uniform."  
"It's already started; you had pointy ears, gray tail and whiskers...SHUT UP!"  
"I didn't say anything."  
"I wasn't talking to you."  
"Who is it?"  
"My psycho sister." a group was walking in their direction. Mycroft tried to take cover, he pulled his arms tighter around himself; he started to mumble when they got closer. Greg saw it and tried to distract him.  
"I know that you have no reason to trust me, but neither I am. You could be an escaped lunatic or a junkie but you can't stay here. I'm taking you home. My name is Greg Lestrade. What's yours?"  
"Mycroft." he whispered.  
"Okay Mycroft now I need you to keep your eyes closed and let me guide you." Greg get hold of his arm, Mycroft gave out a little whimper. "Mycroft, it's just me Greg. I'm here to help." Greg pulled him up; Mycroft followed him.  
"Please talk." he pleaded. Greg talked all the way, about anything that came into his mind.  
"We're almost there Mycroft, just up the stairs...That's it. I'm going to open the door now. And we are home. Now this is the sofa, you sit down." he pushed Mycroft down. Greg took his coat and shoes off, when he turned Mycroft was curled up on the sofa covering his head with a pillow, muttering.

 

Mycroft opened his eyes; he looked around with confusion. He didn't know where he was or how he got here. He slowly sat up, and looked around the little flat; he saw a young man sleeping on the floor, he was in a quite dishevelled state. He had scratches, bruises and bite marks; the flat was in a similar state. He got up just realising that he was only wearing his underwear, backwards; he pulled the blanket tighter around himself. 'No! No, no! Idiot!' He started to look for his clothes; he found them on the bathroom floor, they were torn off. 'What happened? What? Why can't I remember?" he looked into the mirror just realising that he had a black eye and more bruises too. He turned with panic when he heard the man calling his name. "Mycroft! Mycroft!" he quickly found him in the small flat. "Hi there. Are you back with us?" Mycroft stared back at him with a terrified look. "I'm Greg...don't you remember?" Mycroft shook his head. "All right, my name is Greg Lestrade, I'm a police officer. I found you in the park last night, you said that someone drugged you on a party, you didn’t want to go home so I brought you here..." Greg stepped closer; Mycroft retreated. "Sorry." Greg backed away. He left the bathroom and soon returned with clean clothes. "You're a bit taller than me, but these will do, I think. You ripped yours off last night; you said they were on fire. I had to put you under the shower so you'd calm down. I tried to get you dressed again, but I only managed the underwear, sort of...Nothing happened, I promise, I didn't rape you or anything! I know you have no reason to believe me..."  
"I believe you...I'm starting to remember. I’m sorry Gregory.”  
“It’s okay. My neighbour is deaf, the downstairs neighbours are students, I don’t think they minded, the upstairs ones had a party, so they didn’t hear it either.”  
“Heard what?”  
"Your screams...they were quite loud...and horrifying."  
“Sorry.”  
"I'm sorry too...you tried to strangle me; I was just..."  
"I'm so sorry." Mycroft whispered.  
“Here are the towels if you want to take a shower, I’ll make us breakfast.” Greg left him alone; Mycroft closed the door behind him and took a shower. He was standing under the warm water, trying to remember everything that happened the previous day. Little by little his mind started to clear out. He got out of the shower and started to get dressed, when a knock startled him.  
“Mycroft are you all right?” came a worried voice from the other side. Mycroft opened the door. “Good, I thought you fainted, or worse. Breakfast?”  
“Just tea please.” he whispered.  
“Here you go.” Greg placed a mug in his hands. “Are you feeling better?”  
“A bit, thank you for your help. Thank you for believing me, I know you had no reason to do so...I’m so sorry for what I did to you.”  
“No worries, I had worse.” Greg ate his breakfast in silence constantly glancing at Mycroft.  
“Ask it.”  
“The things you saw during your hallucinations, it was like they were not just some fantasies.”  
“Ask it.”  
“Were they memories?”  
“They were. My sister tried everything to make my life miserable; she killed someone, she hurt my brother, then she tried to burn us alive...the remainder was a gift from my schoolmates.”  
“Sorry about that.”  
“No need. It happened, I got used to living with it.”  
“Still...You said she was three years old.”  
“She was when she killed Victor.”  
“Are you serious?”  
“I am. She is terrifyingly clever...”  
“Where is she now?”  
“Dead.”  
“You talk about her in present tense.”  
“Must be the aftermath, I mix up the times.” Mycroft put the mug down. “I’ll help you clean up.”  
“No need, thanks.”  
“Then I won’t keep you longer. I’ll have the clothes brought back to you. Can I use your phone?”  
“Sure, it’s there somewhere under the papers.” Greg pointed at a direction of it.  
Mycroft rescued the phone from under the papers.  
“Sorry to bother you, it’s me...yes I know...I...I was drugged. Could you pick me up, please?” he whispered. “The address?” he looked at Greg expectantly.  
“Linden street 3/2” Mycroft repeated the address.  
“Thank you.” he put the receiver down.  
“Your friend?”  
“My uncle, I’ll wait here if you don’t mind.”  
“Not at all.” Greg started to clean up the place, Mycroft joined him. A knock made him drop the books he was holding. “I’ll get it.” Greg opened the door.  
“Morning officer, I’m here to collect my nephew.”  
“How do you...never mind. Through here.” he showed him in. “He’s much better now, still a bit jumpy and he’s shaking almost constantly, I think he has a killer headache too, but he wouldn't say it.”  
“Mycroft...”  
“I’m sorry, I should have known.”  
“You’re lucky it was just drug.”  
“I know; I’m sorry.”  
“Haven’t you learned a thing?”  
“I know, I know; I just wanted to relax a bit, I just wanted a normal night.”  
“You have to be more careful Mycroft.”  
“I know...”  
“You trusted him. Why?” he indicated Greg.  
“He’s 26, engaged police officer from London. His father is a policeman too. He’s...”  
“Why?” his uncle cut him off; Mycroft sighed and turned his eyes down.  
“I was already hallucinating when he found me. He was the only one who didn’t look frightening; his voice was the only thing that kept me partly together.” Mycroft fell silent.  
“He said I looked like a cat.” Greg broke the silence.  
“A fox.”  
“Sorry...May I suggest that you take him home. Not that I’m bothered by you being here; but he’s not well, he needs to rest.”  
“Yes, thank you for your help. I would like to ask you to forget about everything you heard, forget about us; for your own good.”  
“Okay.” Greg answered with confusion.  
“Come on Mycroft. Let’s get you home.”  
“Thank you Gregory. I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay Mycroft. Goodbye.”

 

 

Greg walked up to his flat, he was too tired to realise that someone was standing by his door.  
"Gregory." a whisper made him jump.  
"Bloody hell!...Mycroft." he looked at him more closely. Mycroft was pale, slightly trembling, tightly clutching his umbrella. “Mycroft? Everything all right?" he opened the door. "Come in. Sorry for the mess." Mycroft followed him to the flat.  
"I'm sorry I came here. I just...I went home, but I couldn't stay there. Sherlock put up a little play, involving her, and I kept seeing and hearing her in the house. I have another place, but..." he trailed off.  
"You don't want to be alone."  
"I don't know anybody else I can go to."  
"I'm glad I can help. Why don't you take a shower and I order something till that. I don't have anything at home right now. The bathroom is that way; you can find everything in there. Wait!" he left and returned with some clothes. "Pyjama."  
"Thank you."  
Mycroft left to take a shower; Greg ordered for them; tried to clean the flat up a bit and brought pillows and blankets out for Mycroft.  
"Food will be here shortly. Will you be fine on the sofa or you can..."  
"I'll be fine here, thank you." Mycroft sat in silence until the bell rung, his head shot up with fear. "It's just the food Mycroft." Greg put it to the coffee table.  
"Which one you'd like?" he put the containers out.  
"None of them."  
"When was the last time you ate?"  
"I don't know...I don't remember. I don't feel well."  
"Of course not. You haven't had anything in...what two days? Please, a little bit." Mycroft picked up one of them and started to eat. Greg watched him with grave attention.  
"Say it Gregory."  
"She is terrifying. I mean her eyes...she sees right through you. You can look scary, but she...."  
"I told you so." silence fell. Greg cleared away the containers.  
"Okay...we need sleep. Wake me if....you need me or...anything..." Greg mumbled. He left Mycroft and immediately fell asleep. Soon he was woken by a muffled scream. He walked to the living room to find Mycroft curled up under the blanket. Greg cautiously sat next to him. "Mycroft?" there was no proper answer; he pulled the blanket off Mycroft's head. He had his face buried to the pillow trying to silence his screams and sobs. Greg put his hand on his head; Mycroft was shaking. "It's okay Mycroft. You are safe, she's not here...she's back, locked up for good. You are safe. I'm here, you're not alone. Shhh....Shhh" Greg stroked his hair. "You are safe Mycroft, I promise...Shhh." he continued to stroke his hair in silence.  
"Talk please." Mycroft freed his tear swollen face from the pillow.  
"Okay. Remember the first time we met, I mean properly. I'm not talking about the time I found you on the bench and you almost broke off my engagement. Looking back it would have been better; she wouldn't believe me how I got the bite marks. She though I cheated on her, then she was even more freaked out when I told her that it was a man who bit me. Finally she calmed down and forgot about it. I didn't mean the time you kidnapped me either; it was funny because for the first 10 minutes I was just staring at you. I had no idea what you were talking about, because I was so stunned by your gorgeousness. That's why I was speechless, not because I was intimidated or whatever you tried to achieve by kidnapping me. We met after that a few times too, but the first time I met the real Mycroft was after Sherlock's OD. I met the tired big brother who carries the world on his shoulders, always looking out for everybody else...ignoring himself and his needs. The Mycroft who can order anyone to do anything and powerless when it comes to his little brother. The little brother who means everything to him, who he loves with all his heart, but have to hide it from everyone, even from Sherlock too in order to protect him. The Mycroft, who is lonely, scared, secretly wishing that someone would be there for him, with him. Wishing that he doesn't have to hide his emotions, that he could show Sherlock how he feels, wishing he knew how to do that...The Mycroft who has a sense of humour, who can smile and cry, who is mischievous, clever sometimes scary and also looks amazing. We kept meeting and slowly I got to know you. You lowered the walls bit by bit around me, it was amazing to get to know you; it was good to see you relax around me...I really liked it. It was strange to see the contrast between you and the ice man......The Christmas before my divorce Sherlock announced that she was still cheating; I think he wanted to give me the final push to leave her; also it was a present from him to you. He realised that we've been circling around each other for years." he looked down at Mycroft for conformation; Mycroft was looking back at him, his eyes fixed on Greg's face.  
"Don't stop; please."  
"I got divorced, but I was...I don't know. I guess I waited for you to make the first move, and you waited for me. Then Sherlock disappeared and we stopped meeting. I missed you, I missed talking to you...We were so out of touch by the time he got back; we talked again, but it wasn't the same. You kept a distance from me, we barely met and even then you remained cold. So I couldn't bring myself to do anything. I had a few theories; that you found someone and you were happy, I secretly hoped that to be true. I would have been a little sad, but still, you deserve to be happy. The other, that you were scared; because before we could joke and circle around each other without consequences. But if we are to continue that now that I was free, it would...it could mean something; and that scared you. Or that I misread the signs, and there was nothing between us; just my imagination..."  
"It's the second." Mycroft whispered. Greg remained silent and kept stroking his hair. "Go to bed Gregory, you are exhausted. We both have to go to work tomorrow.  
"Will you be all right?"  
"Yes, thank you."  
"Promise that you'll wake me if you're not fine."  
"Promise. Sleep tight."  
"Will do." Greg fell asleep as soon his head touched the pillow; Mycroft just kept staring at the ceiling as the events in Sherrinford kept flooding his mind. He was startled by his phone.  
"Where are you?"  
"Good evening to you too brother mine."  
"Mycroft where are you?"  
"Trying to sleep."  
"Stop with it!"  
"With what? Sleeping?"  
"Mycroft, tell me where are you?"  
"Where are you Sherlock?" he echoed.  
"In your house. Now answer me!"  
"Why do you care?" Sherlock grunted and put the phone down. Mycroft returned to examining the ceiling; he was brought back by a loud knock. He sat up and eyed the door with uncertainty; Greg staggered out sleepily.  
"Coming, coming; for god's sake." he mumbled. "Sherlock?" he pushed him aside and marched into the flat.  
"Don't you dare doing this again My!" Mycroft just stared at him.  
"What happened?" Greg asked.  
"He wouldn't tell me where he was. I had to track down his phone."  
"Why wouldn't you tell it to him Mycroft?" Greg turned to him.  
"He never cared about me..."  
"Okay it's enough!" Greg cut him off. "Sherlock sit down, Mycroft you stay put." Greg closed the door, Sherlock and Mycroft just kept staring at each other. "Now you talk. I know it's not easy for you; but this is inevitable." they remained silent. "Okay." Greg sighed. "I'll start. Mycroft came here because he didn't feel safe at home after your little play. We are friends; he came to me so he won't be alone. Sherlock called you Mycroft, because he is worried about you. He didn't know what to expect from you after the events, he is scared that you'll do something stupid out of desperation, or because she influenced you."  
"He's right Mycroft...You didn't look fine."  
"The last time you saw me you turned the gun at yourself, what were you expecting of me?"  
"But before that I pointed it at you. You were prepared to die by my hand! It's understandable that you're shaken up. I'm..."  
"I would die there; I would let her do whatever she wanted with me if that meant that you are safe. When you turned the gun I froze; I couldn't think properly. I'm sorry. I won't do anything, don't worry, it's not that bad. I just need a little time, that's all. I know it's hard for you now, but I know you'll be fine. You have Dr. Watson, he'll help you; you'll help each other, after all there is a child who needs looking after."  
"You need someone too."  
"I'll be fine, I always am."  
"No you're not Mycroft."  
"Why do you care? You've never cared before." Mycroft stood up and started to pace. "When we were in Sherrinford all you cared about was Dr. Watson. I didn't shoot the governor; I'm weak. Dr Watson didn't do it; but it's okay; you understood him. HIM; he was a soldier, he killed people before. And just because of that it's okay that he doesn't want more blood on his hands...but it's not fine if I refuse. And..."  
"I saw that you were terrified."  
"I wasn't!"  
"Mycroft." Sherlock said softly. "You were, please don't lie to yourself. I saw it, I thought that by treating you like I didn't saw it; like I usually do...you'll calm down a bit. We didn't have time to stop and lick our wounds, we had to go on; we had a plane or we thought; we had to get out of there."  
"We had to be soldiers."  
"Yes Mycroft. I'm sorry, but I had no other choice. I couldn't risk you falling apart there. I knew it was just an act; that you are fine, cold, logical, unbreakable; as usual; but that gave me a little comfort...I could get through it with you there. I needed you; I'm sorry...I wouldn't be able to kill you My. I figured she wanted me alive; I knew she wouldn't let me kill myself. I hoped she won't harm you because of my decision. I was so worried when I woke up and you were nowhere to be found. And now this!"  
"Sorry." Mycroft mumbled and kept pacing. "Are you all right Sherlock?"  
"I'm fine. I'm starting to remember more and more things about her. I understand why you chose to close her away...I...I would..."  
"No point, she's not talking."  
"Please, you visited her before, why can't I visit her too."  
"She's dangerous, even now! Why can't you understand it?" Mycroft said wearily.  
"She had countless of chances to kill me, but she didn't do it."  
"But she hurt you, she can still hurt you." he whispered.  
"She won't My...You said it yourself that she's not talking, there's no way she'll get out again. Also there will be no need for her to get out because she won't be alone."  
"So you care about her being lonely!" Mycroft snapped; he was blinking rapidly to keep back his tears.  
"It's not what I meant Mycroft. She's closed up with minimal human contact; she hasn't seen her family in decades. I know you visited her, but..."  
"She hates me."  
"I'm not so sure about that. You are not alone Mycroft; you just choose to close us off. I'm here for you; you can come to me at any time. We are here, mummy and father and Anthea..."  
"And me." Greg took over. "I'm here; you know that, just like before..."  
"I know." he whispered.  
"Good. You'll be fine Mycroft. There's nothing we can't solve, remember it; please." Mycroft nodded and kept walking, Greg saw that he swayed; he jumped up and caught him before he fell. "Sherlock, little help!" together they managed to help Mycroft back to the sofa. He was clinging onto Greg. "Please don't leave me...please." he whispered. Greg wrapped his arms around him protectively and started to stroke his hair. "It's okay Mycroft. I'm here, we're not going anywhere. I promise...I'm here. It's all right, it's going to be all right..." he kept stroking his hair until Mycroft finally fell asleep.  
"Bit shaken up, you call this a bit shaken up!" Sherlock whispered.  
"That was last night Sherlock and I only saw him for a minute or so...Do you want to stay?" Sherlock looked at him hesitantly. "Okay, your choices are armchair or the floor; you can find a blanket in my room.  
"I'll be fine here." Sherlock settled in the armchair using his coat as a blanket.  
Mycroft woke to his phone ringing; he opened his eyes and looked around with confusion. He tried to get up, but Greg’s hold tightened around him. Mycroft tried to get out of his hold. “Shhh...My. It’s okay you are safe. You can sleep.” he mumbled half asleep.  
“I can’t Gregory; I have to go to work.”  
“What?” Mycroft chuckled, Greg woke up entirely. “What?” he asked again.  
“Nothing. Gregory?” he asked hesitantly.  
“Yes?”  
“Today I have a meeting with my parents...I...I don’t know what should I do. I mean how much should I tell them.”  
“Everything.”  
“Everything?” he whispered.  
“Yes Mycroft that would be the best. I know it won’t be easy.” Mycroft snorted.  
“Could you let me go? I have to go home before work.”  
“Oh, sorry.” Greg let him go. Mycroft realised that Sherlock was still here, sleeping; he smiled at him.  
“Thank you Gregory, for everything.”  
“Any time. Are you going to be all right?”  
“Yes.”  
“Breakfast?”  
“No need. You should go back to bed; you still have two hours before you have to get up.”  
“Good idea. Call me if you need anything.”  
“Thank you.”

Greg's phone rang.  
“Mycroft? Everything all right?”  
“Do you have a little time now?"  
"Ahmm...a few minutes, sorry. The chief holds a presentation..."  
"Oh, sorry that I bothered you."  
"No, no...Mycroft what's wrong?"  
"My parents just left. Mummy was furious as expected. I knew this will happen; I don't know why I am so surprised. She didn't want to listen to a word I said. I tried to explain it to her; without success of course. She said that I'm an idiot and that Sherlock is the grownup..."  
"I'm so sorry Mycroft I have to go now. I call you back as soon as it over; I promise."  
"Is he standing in your office?"  
"Nope."  
"Then you still have time."  
"Mycroft..."  
"When he shouts for you; you'll go. Please. I'm your boss...sort of, I can keep you busy."  
"Fine. What did Sherlock do?"  
"He tried to help, but mummy wasn't paying attention to him either."  
"She just needs time."  
"I guess...they want to see her too."  
"Naturally. You know that you can't deny it to them."  
"I'm afraid so. I'm just worried; she tried before what would stop her now! She was living home with us; she was loved, she had everything she needed."  
"But she was still lonely. You were too old to play with her, Sherlock had Victor and she couldn't find a friend who was on the same level as her...Ops, he's coming; I better be going. Sorry Mycroft."  
"One last thing Gregory, could you come over, please I don't want to be alone...I can't..."  
"I'll go over after work if it's okay."  
"Thank you."

Greg rang the bell and waited for Mycroft to turn up.  
"Good evening Gregory." he looked him up and down.  
"What is it?"  
"I thought you'll stay."  
"I packed a bag, but left it in the car. At first I thought you want me to stay and then I thought that I just misread your words, so..."  
"Stay, please." Greg left to bring his bag in. "I'll take it to your room, the kitchen through there." Mycroft soon returned.  
"You live here on your own? I mean no butler or..."  
"I'm alone. I have a gardener and cleaners who come weakly, but I prefer it like this. Hungry?"  
"Starving, it smells good."  
"I hope you'll like it. I made it."  
"You can cook?"  
"Of course."  
"So why do we went to restaurants whenever you kidnapped me? You always eyed everyone like they are about to assassinate you."  
"I...it's complicated."  
"You trusted me, but not this much. Not that complicated." he smiled.  
"Let's eat, shall we?"  
"Yes, please." they sat at the table.  
"How was your day?"  
"Boring, paperwork, the boss's never ending lecture and more paperwork. How are you?"  
Mycroft sighed. "Been worse I guess. It really hurt what mummy said, I know I deserved it, but still. I hope you're right and she'll forgive me. I know I'm not the best of sons but I love her. I just wanted to help."  
"She's your mother and whatever she said today she still loves you. I know it."  
"We'll see. I'm considering letting Sherlock see her and then we'll decide if it's safe for them to visit too."  
"Do as you think it best."  
"That's what I tried to do the last time and failed...miserably."  
"You saved your family, Mycroft."  
"You don't know that. Maybe..."  
"No, she killed when she was three, she almost burned you to death, she wouldn't stop there, her current activities show it." they continued to eat in silence.  
"I show you to your room. You have to excuse me, but I have to work. You can explore the house, go wherever you like. I'll be in the office."  
Greg walked through the enormous house. On the top floor there was his room. It was simple but elegant and still bigger than his living room. The next door led to Mycroft's bedroom very similar to his. The other rooms were covered with dust covers; unused. He went a floor down to found Mycroft's office a library, a sitting room and other covered up rooms. Downstairs were the kitchen, dining room, a living room and a home cinema. 'Are you kidding with me? He looked through Mycroft's film collection trying to determine what he likes, but he had so many different kinds of movies, that it was impossible. 'Not helping Mycroft...not a bit.' He went to the kitchen and made tea; since he was there he unloaded the dishwasher. He settled in the library looking through the vast book collection; there were pieces he didn't dare to touch. He didn't realise how time passed just when he looked up and saw that it was eleven o'clock already. He took the mug back to the kitchen; on his way up he passed Mycroft's office. He was about to go upstairs, but turned and opened the door.  
"Sorry to bother you."  
"It's okay." Mycroft quickly closed the file in front of him.  
"I go to sleep now. Please wake me if you need anything."  
"Thank you, I don't think it'll be necessary."  
"Just promise me."  
"Promise. Good night Gregory."  
"Good night."

Greg woke up in the morning and found Mycroft in the kitchen.  
"Why didn't you wake me?"  
"There was no need for it."  
"You haven't slept a wink; don't tell me you worked till morning, we both know that's not the case." Mycroft turned his eyes away. "You promised."  
"You need sleep Gregory and not pestering me..."  
"That's exactly why I'm here; you just have to let me do it." Mycroft turned to leave.  
"I have to go in now. I left a key for you by the door; please close up. See you tonight Gregory."  
"See you." when Mycroft left he looked around the kitchen. "Not sleeping, not eating what else Mycroft?" he mumbled when he found no sign of him having breakfast.  
Greg got back before Mycroft; he looked around the kitchen, contemplating if he should cook something. 'Leftover it is.' he decided when he saw how much was left from yesterday. 'He'll be better off without my cooking anyways.' he tried to wait for Mycroft, but it was getting late and he was hungry.  
Greg was watching a movie when Mycroft finally got home.  
"Hello Gregory." he came to the living room.  
"How was your day?"  
"Long, trying, I'm surrounded by idiots; they all act like toddlers. They don't know a lot of words, understand even less, they don't know the word no, but the want is in their vocabulary and they won't stop repeating it. Then they cry like a three years old if they don't get what they want, insufferable bunch of morons." he sunk to the sofa.  
"Sorry about it."  
"I got used to it. Sorry for complaining, usually I have no one, only Anthea to complain to. How was yours?"  
"New case, don't tell it to Sherlock; I don't need him."  
"Of course you don't. What are you watching?"  
"Twelve angry men."  
"Couldn't get away from work?"  
"What can I say; you're a bad influence on me." Mycroft smiled faintly. "Come on you need food."  
"You waited for me?"  
"No, sorry."  
"Oh, good. I don't want you to starve on my account."  
"I'm afraid dinner is leftover, I didn't have the strength to cook and we have plenty left."  
"Fine with me. You don't have to stay with me."  
"Yes I have to. Have you had anything for lunch? Tell me the truth Mycroft."  
"No." he whispered.  
"Sit and eat." Greg pushed him to a chair and put a plate in front of him.  
"Thank you."  
"Be right back." Greg he said when he saw that Mycroft started to eat. He came back dressed in his pyjama. "Finished?"  
"Yes, I just..."  
"You go and take a shower now then you come down and finish the movie with me."  
"Gregory..."  
"Please Mycroft, trust me." Mycroft slowly nodded. He came down wrapped in his dressing gown.  
"Come here." Greg patted the space next to him. Mycroft reluctantly sat down and eyed Greg with uncertainty. "Don't worry Mycroft. Now..." Greg pulled Mycroft down so his head was resting on a pillow in his lap.  
"Gregory!" he whispered with a slight panic in his voice.  
"Shhh..." he wrapped the blanket around him and started the movie again. He felt that Mycroft was tense, very tense. "Mycroft, you are safe. I'm not going to do anything to you don't worry." he stroked his hair.  
"Why are you doing this?"  
"What?"  
"My hair."  
"I can stop, but it worked last time."  
"Don't stop." he whispered and settled more comfortably on the sofa. Greg continued to stroke his hair smiling as Mycroft relaxed under his hand. 

Greg woke up in the morning Mycroft was still sleeping. He tried to get up carefully not to wake him.  
"Morning Gregory."  
"Morning, sorry I woke you."  
"I have to get up anyways." Mycroft sat up and moved closer to him. "Thank you."  
"Any times."  
"Tonight?" Mycroft leaned forward.  
"Of course."  
"We might...we could use my bed. It's bigger; we'd have more space there."  
"I know, I saw it. If it's half as comfortable as the one in mine I'd be happy with it."  
"It's even better. We could settle more comfortably there."  
"Good. I can't wait to try it.”  
“It’s very good to sleep in it; I can assure you.”  
“What else good in it?” Mycroft sat back and Greg buried his face to his hands. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. Mycroft I’m so sorry.” he looked up only to found himself alone. He set out to find Mycroft. His office was closed; Greg knocked at the door for a long time, but there was no answer. He reluctantly left the door and got ready for work. He left the key by the door and walked out to the cold morning.  
Mycroft heard the main door closing; he sighed and got up from the floor; where he was sitting until now. He was distracted all morning; Anthea looked at him with concern.  
“Sir, are you all right?”  
“Yes, no...thank you.” he dismissed her. After a little more suffering he called for the car.  
Mycroft walked up to Sherlock's flat.  
"What are you doing here, brother mine?"  
"I have to talk to the Detective Inspector." he nodded to Greg.  
"We're working."  
"It won't take long I can assure you. You're murderer won't go anywhere since he was hit by a car this morning. He's in Bart's."  
"You couldn't keep your mouth shut. You had to ruin everything!"  
"Now can I talk with DI Lestrade?"  
"We still have to confirm your theory. Come on Lestrade." Greg walked past him with an apologetic smile.  
"I love you." Mycroft called after them.  
"Don't get sentimental on me Mycroft." Sherlock snapped and turned to see Mycroft and Greg in each other arms; kissing.  
"Lestrade get out of my brother's mouth! Good lord, what have I seen." he turned suddenly covering his face. John came down with Rosie to the noise. "Sherlock; you woke her."  
"Sorry." John stepped to him.  
"Your brother is smiling, I mean properly. Is he all right?"  
"I don't know, last I checked Lestrade was on him."  
"You can turn they're not kissing anymore." he said with a sigh and headed to the kitchen. Sherlock slowly turned and followed him.  
"Sickening."  
"I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I think they look nice together. I didn't know they are dating."  
"Mycroft just decided to confess, they both know that they've been in love for...ages. He really could have waited a few hours; we have a case that intercepted Lestrade’s."  
"Is it solved?"  
"Mycroft solved it." Sherlock said resigned.  
"Then let them be."  
"But there's a child here!"  
"And?"  
"They are...they...you saw them."  
"They're just standing there. Anyways Rosie saw us kissing before and she's still alive. You on the other hand..."  
"But..."  
"Stop being childish and help me." Sherlock dropped to the chair with a grunt. "What now?"  
"I just imagined them...." he grunted again.  
"Delete it."  
"I can't."  
"You can if you want to."  
"Not this. Oh god why my brother, why!"  
"Your parents had sex too." Sherlock jumped up followed by John's chuckle; he marched back to the living room. Mycroft and Greg was still standing there in each other arms foreheads pressed, gazing into each other's eyes lovingly.  
"Lestrade we have to leave, we have a case, remember?"  
"In a minute Sherlock."  
"Now."  
Greg sighed. "I better take him."  
"All right." Mycroft answered after a while, still not wanting to let go of Greg.  
"Mycroft." Greg said softly.  
"Sorry." he stepped back. "You forgot your key."  
"Oh, thanks." Mycroft pulled him back to a kiss. "See you tonight Gregory."  
"Most certainly."


End file.
